i was minding my own business,
eating black neck ties as usual
under the soft low light of the local bistro.
this is my evening routine.
my clear drink had an olive stuffed with a clove of sunset.
the place was busy,
full of dancing penguins, chatting goblins,
and dining polar bears.
the sanguine carpet, already thin,
had been pressed even flatter by last night's
elephant wedding.
they can dance.
Don't be a mouse, be a lion
